


Becoming Stable

by skargasm



Series: Taming the Muse [6]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-24
Updated: 2014-05-24
Packaged: 2018-01-26 09:24:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1683314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skargasm/pseuds/skargasm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Scott plays cupid...</p>
<p>I had to write to the prompt and this bit of nothingness came out - sorry!</p>
<hr/>
            </blockquote>





	Becoming Stable

“If it’s got no magic properties then why can’t we get past it?” Stiles scowled as Derek pushed against the invisible barrier once more, a sub vocal growl escaping him as sparks of amber flew around them and he was pushed back. 

“I don’t know! It looks like andalusite which should mean it’s harmless but something’s been done to it.”

“But what? Come on, Stiles, what the hell has Deaton been teaching you if you can’t answer a simple question?” Derek strode back and forth in front of him, his bare chest heaving with the deep breaths he was taking. Really, was it necessary for him to lose his shirt in _every >_ battle they fought? Okay, it had an effect on Stiles which was a little distracting so in that way it might act as a mini diversion, but none of the supernatural beasties of the night they had been fighting lately had seemed to find it all that diverting so it obviously didn’t work on the enemy. And distracting your emissary with your whorls of dark chest hair which had previously only been surmised at and spotted through the deep vee of henley’s and t-shirts but were now fully on display seemed a tad shooting yourself in the foot-like. If anyone had asked Stiles. Which they hadn’t because no one ever listened to him until it was too late and he was stuck in a magic circle of amber stones with the topless beta. Whose chest happened to be gleaming with sweat. Sue him—he couldn’t seem to get past that bit. “Stiles? Oh my God, leave it to me to get stuck with you when you’re distracted!”

“I wouldn’t **be** distracted if you would stop shoving your muscles in my face every five minutes and sit the hell down!” Derek stopped in his tracks and turned to look at Stiles, the tips of his ears turning a deep rose pink and his facial expression carefully smoothing out to blank. “Right, um, let’s just forget the muscles part of that sentence and stick with the sitting down bit okay? Good, erm, I mean this is just—it makes no sense! Scott said the witch was perfectly happy to leave the territory—in fact, she was quite happy about the whole thing so why this magicked set of stones I really don’t know because this doesn’t seem like the happy witch kinda thing to do. This is more the Samantha from Bewitched kinda thing to do, you know, wanting to teach someone a lesson and forcing them into a situation where—“ Stiles ground to a halt, the image of Scott and the witch muttering to each other forming in his mind. The two of them had looked over at Derek and Stiles for a moment before they shook hands and Stiles had a really bad feeling about this. It was starting to seem like way too much of a coincidence that he and Derek had been caught by just enough faeries to make the fight interest but not cause any real damage. 

And they had seem rather too invested in divesting Derek shirt whilst seeming to be teasing Stiles more than anything. If he put too much thought into it, he might start to wonder if he hadn’t imagined that it had felt like he and Derek had been herded towards this particular circle of stones which were spelled to conveniently trap them in place. Really, this was starting to feel more and more of a set-up and he had a really bad feeling he knew who was at least partly responsible. Just as he was trying to figure out just what his alleged best friend might have done in the name of being cupid, his cell phone rang. Scrambling through the pocket of his hoodie, he yanked it out and flipped it open.

“Yeah? Scott—Scott buddy, please tell me you didn’t do what I think you might have done.” 

“Stiles—the witch told me that things in the pack were unstable because of some unresolved things which is what led her to Beacon Hills in the first place. We need to be stable, dude. You know that.”

“What’s so unresolved that you had to resort to witchcraft?” He knew the answer but couldn’t bring himself to say anything out loud just in case he was wrong. Because of issues. Issues that had to do with sour beta wolves who seemed to enjoy getting all up in his business but never following through. Stiles swore that his laundry bill had pretty much trebled since Derek had got so touchy-feely and it was a source of irritation that he was still a solo-act. It didn’t help that every time they went out on a pack outing—i.e. a trip to Jungle for Danny to get his groove on and Stiles to flail around the dance floor—Derek did nothing but brood and cock-block Stiles at every turn. It simply wasn’t. If the dude wasn’t going to put out, he should step off and let Stiles just _see_ if there was anyone that could compete. 

“Stiles—“ 

“What? What are you saying? Are you blaming me? Because I’ll have you know there is nothing unstable about me—well, apart from my inability to balance upright on occasion which I know I will outgrow because it’s way better than it was when I was seventeen so hitting eighteen last week should have—“

“You were eighteen last week?” Derek’s voice interrupted him and he turned to the dark-browed beta with a scowl.

“Yes—where have you been? Oh yeah, you were at that symposium. Erm, yeah, we didn’t do anything special because we were researching this stuff and everything but I hit eighteen last week and—mmph!” He could hear Scott squawking from the phone that had flown out of his hand but it was only background noise because Stiles found himself flat on his back on the ground, the heavy, satisfying weight of Derek on top of him and that luscious mouth pressed against his own. Strong hands were travelling over his chest and hips, his legs spreading automatically to cradle Derek between them as they began grinding against each. 

“Stiles? STILES! Oh my—Jackson what are you doing? You can—really? You can tell that over the phone?? Wow, yeah it does sound like they’re eating each other doesn’t it? No, Kira you can’t listen in—how long did the witch say the barrier would stay up? Cool—well at least we don’t have to worry about walking in on them or anything like that because that would be—no Erica, it would _not_ be hot! Boyd, can’t you do something with her—she’s leaking that scent all over the place and it’s very distracting! Oh, whoops, yeah I’m still on the line—is that Stiles growling or Derek? Okay, that sounded like clothing tearing, I think it’s time we hung up. What? NO, I’m not saying—fine, fine! Derek Erica says if the barrier’s come down there’s lube in your jacket pocket and I’m not saying the rest of it because that is just WAY too much information!” 

Funnily enough, Stiles didn’t even notice the dial tone as Scott hung up.

* * *


End file.
